


Eeper Weeper

by NorthSol



Series: Bleidd y Cerbin [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Case Fic, Further tags and warnings in the chapter summaries/notes, M/M, Regis and Geralt keeps ending up in weird situations, creepy poem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2018-12-18 08:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11870883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthSol/pseuds/NorthSol
Summary: The trek northwards continues, albeit with some bumps in the road. Once in Kaedwen however, the pair stumbles over a case that proves to be rather dark and taxing on them both.





	1. Never for Long

The witcher wandered at a slow pace, he didn’t know what else to do as Regis had yet to show himself. He knew there was little point in looking for the vampire, he had tried but found no tracks. Regis didn’t want to be found which meant there really was no point for him to attempt the endeavor. That didn’t stop him from walking and leading the horses north at a snail’s pace and taking quite a few detours though. He mulled over the words that had passed between them before Regis had turned around, slipped into fog form and rushed away.

He shouldn’t have tried to cover up what had happened, he shouldn’t have tried to lie. He should have sat down with Regis and laid out the facts, all of them, and then make Regis see what an incredible person he really was. What was that thing people said about hindsight? The witcher sighed to himself as he tugged at the horses, getting them to move again. Night was nearing, and Geralt didn’t feel like getting much closer to Novigrad just yet, not before Regis was with him once more.

He strayed from the road and headed towards the large trees, their thick leaves would suffice to keep him half dry if the skies made good on their dark threats of rain. He bound the horses loosely to a low hanging branch before setting up a simple camp, getting a small fire going to keep the worst of the chill out of his bones.

He was kneeling in front of the fire when a presence materializing to his right interrupted his meditation. Even with eyes closed, the presence was familiar and warmed him more than the flickering flames of his little fire could ever hope to do.

“You’ve been sorely missed today, Regis,” the witcher spoke quietly, keeping his eyes closed.

“I’m not really in a mood to talk, Geralt,” Regis replied, his voice holding an odd strain.

“I’m just glad you’ve returned,” the witcher admitted, finally opening his eyes and looking over at the vampire who was looking away. His whole appearance was screaming of a deep fatigue and worry.

“I very nearly didn’t…” he trailed of, glancing at Geralt again, quickly averting his eyes once he saw the witcher taking him in and the quiet hurt that flashed over his features.

Geralt regarded his lover for a moment longer, Regis was tense, obviously uncomfortable. The witcher both could and couldn’t guess most of what was going on beneath the unruly hair that moved with the wind.

“Well I-“

“Later Geralt, please…” the vampire interrupted him and Geralt gave a low sigh, but nodded. He didn’t know if Regis caught that or not, but it didn’t matter. He was here, with him again, the witcher decided to settle and be glad for that fact alone.  
He laid out his and Regis beddings both before lying down under the covers. The other man made no move whatsoever to join him. He reminded himself that patience was key, and to again just be happy the vampire had returned at all what with the recent upsetting events.

He’d try to apologize properly in the morning, perhaps Regis would even sense his own foolishness and join him under the covers soon. He closed his eyes and forced his body into a state of reasonable rest, feeling safer all the same now that Regis at least was within reach again. And even though the vampire refused to lie down at any point during the night, Geralt woke with the comforting notion that at least he was still here and hadn’t run off somewhere during the night.

The following days passed much the same, Geralt would try to strike up conversation and Regis would show no interest whatsoever. Either riding a little ahead, or a little behind. If the witcher tried bringing up the very thing that had caused this rift between them, Regis got even more tight lipped and the look in his eyes resembled that of a creature ready to flee. Geralt had no choice but to let the matter rest for now.

At night Regis would stand upright, face stoic as he stared out into the night as Geralt took his rest. A few years earlier and Geralt would have scoffed at himself for actually missing having his lover close as he rested. As things were now though, he had grown accustomed to having Regis close, to fall asleep while the gentle scent of herbs filled him and his surroundings. Even if the vampire was less than a stone throw away, Geralt could admit in the darkest hours of the night that he was… lonely. Even so he was determined about giving the older man all the time he needed. Geralt of Rivia, actually waiting for someone to settle enough to the point where feelings and circumstance could be discussed… would wonders never cease? He snorted to himself before glancing up at Regis’ back as the other rode a few paces ahead of him.

 

They were getting closer to the “free” city of Novigrad now, the rode out early to make decent time so they could pass through the city gates come the new morrow. Sometime later they rode past the Hanged Man’s tree which still had mangled men and skeletons swinging eerily in the breeze. No one recent and fresh creaking from the branches now though, it had become a less frequent sight after the war had ended. Still, the witcher’s gaze lingered on a still clothed body, closer to skin and bones than a real man truth to be told.

The eerie rhyme whispered to him as he left the bog came back to him uninvited.

_Eeper Weeper, old grounds keeper,_

_Had a wife but couldn't keep her._

_Had another, she was not the same,_

_Set the cradles all aflame._

A shudder went through him, well hidden by years of training and a layer of armor. He managed to tear his gaze away from the swinging corpse and ride by the tree, eyes cast down.

_Eeper Weeper, old grounds keeper,_

_His wife she tried to flee by boat._

_She couldn’t manage,_

_The boat he’d damage,_

_Sent her on her lonesome afloat._

He pulled Roach to a halt, turning in his saddle to look behind him. He hadn’t heard that verse before, had he? Who said that? He narrowed his eyes as he scanned the surrounding area. But they were alone on the road, they day still too early even for the farmers who were just dragging themselves out of bed at this time of day.

“Geralt?” Regis’ voice broke through his bewilderment, to hear his voice like he normally would was a blessing worth giving up his suspicions for, for now anyway.

“It’s nothing, wind is playing tricks on me I guess,” he turned back and met the curious gaze of the vampire, a facial expression he had sorely missed on his companion’s features.

“I doubt it helps that so many met an untimely end here,” the older man commented drily.

“You are probably right, tree always did give me the creeps in any case. Let’s continue, we keep this calm pace and we will reach the old border post this afternoon,” He got Roach into motion again, giving Regis the smallest of smiles as the vampire nodded. His heart sang at the glimpse of a smile ghosting over the other’s lips before turning back towards the road.

They passed through the old border post around midday, there were no signs of life there anymore. The once bustling post was completely abandoned. As Nilfgaard had taken over Redenia, and had Temeria as an annexed state this did perhaps not come as a particularly big surprise. Still, one would have expected people to settle there. Perhaps people still feared the faint stench of war that still clung to some corners on the old fronts.

“I suggest we set up camp soon, or it will be really late by the time we reach Novigrad. I know we can handle whatever the city wants to throw our way, but there would probably be less bloodshed during the day when a higher percentage of people remember common decency is a thing still,” Geralt spoke up as they started crossing the river.

“Hm, I agree. If we set up camp soon, we will make it to Novigrad in the morning hours tomorrow. More quiet, less … aggressive individuals out and about,” the vampire agreed with a short glance his way.

“There is a nice, dry and hopefully monster free groove not too far from here. We won’t be so easily disturbed there either, bit away from the roads.”

“Then by all means, Geralt. Lead the way,” Regis held his horse back a little so Roach caught up and passed the steed, neighing softly as she did.

Geralt tried to catch Regis’ eye as he passed him, but the vampire kept his eyes cast down, studying his steed’s mane as the witcher passed him. Geralt sighed quietly to himself as he felt his heart ache at the sight. He had to say something... For he couldn’t let Regis just sink into self-flagellation like this, the man couldn’t fool him. He knew Regis was spiraling into doubt all the while blaming only himself for what had happened.

The witcher led them to the groove he had spoken off, it was just as idyllic and unspoiled as he remembered it. They put up a quick and easy camp, got a fire going before starting on their last provisions that still were more than enough as Regis had refused food since the incident. He eyed the older man that just stared out at nothing as the witcher took some food. Geralt swallowed away some salted meat before clearing his throat.

“Regis, can we please talk?” he asked carefully.

Finally the vampire looked over at him, but his expression of sadness, on the verge of giving up… it broke the witcher’s heart.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything from the start, Regis. I shouldn’t have tried to cover it up, and I never will with anything ever again.” He started, his speech a little rambling as he hurried once he finally had the other man’s silent consent.

“I appreciate that, Geralt…” he sighed, and moved his head to look away again.

“But…!” Geralt continued, hurriedly “you need to hear it all, what really happened. Regis, you didn’t just randomly attack me. I didn’t beat you back into calm or whatever else you are imagining,” he could hear the pleading in his own voice, a plea for Regis to listen.

“Then what exactly did happen, Geralt?” Regis frowned at him, proving that he still had little to no memory about the event.

“You first began thrashing, as if you were in pain. The crone influenced you, forced you with powerful magic. She wanted you to kill me, take my blood to her for her to use. With it she meant she could contact Ciri, lure her to the bog and use her to resurrect her sisters,” He began his tale.

“I had realized she was somehow involved… that still doesn’t excuse my loss of-“

“But you didn’t lose control Regis, no wait, let me finish. You attacked me, yes, you pinned me down and you bit me,” Regis flinched when the witcher said it even if all details were left out.

“Please, Geralt stop I don’t think I can listen to this,” he interrupted before the witcher could continue, and Geralt faltered for a moment.

“Then… can I please try to tell you why I was an ass and tried to not say anything?” he asked quietly, for the vampire looked positively ashen at the picture Geralt had just painted for him. A short nod was all the sign of consent he got.

“I didn’t tell you, because I knew the loss of control would bother you. I knew it would bother you a lot, and I didn’t want it to. I know now that it was a stupid thing of me to do,” he began quickly then slowly trailed off slowly, looking up at the other again. Regis had gone from ashen fright to tight lipped in the meantime, regarding Geralt for a moment before he sighed heavily.

“It was a rather stupid thing to do yes, and I would much more prefer if you made no such future attempts. I don’t want the trust between us compromised. That said, I do understand why you tried to omit the truth. You are a sappy old man, after all,” the vampire actually managed a small smile as Geralt sputtered indignantly.

“I’m old? Seriously, you, calling me old?” He snorted in disbelief.

 

“Perspective Geralt, but in all seriousness I… thank you, for telling me this.” The vampire ducked his head down.

“I don’t want you to worry Regis, there is just no way you’d lose control by yourself,” the witcher insisted, leaning closer.

“I don’t know Geralt,” came the quiet reply from the other man. “But just the mere thought that I harmed you it… It shakes me to the very core, even with your witcher attributes you are mortal. I shall be the first to admit that I do in fact fear losing you. And then to learn I nearly caused your demise myself , even if it was at the behest of an ancient and powerful being… “Regis’ dark eyes looked up and met the witcher’s own yellowed. “It brings me such an amount of fear and doubt, Geralt. I want to run far away from you, keep you safe from me…”

Geralt’s heart felt like it stopped, the pain flashing through his chest would have brought him to his knees were he not already sitting. Regis looked away quickly, unable to cope with the naked hurt he saw in his witcher’s face.

“But I cannot find the strength or will to do so,” he continued, but quickly trailed off again.

“I would never want you to find that strength, you are strong enough Regis, and I trust you completely,” Geralt managed to find his voice to protest, hand reaching out to touch Regis’ arm.

“But I do not trust myself, perhaps I simply need some more time…And in said time, I think it would be wise if I… didn’t stray too close to you,” He looked down at the hand reaching for him, closing his eyes as he saw the hand begin to falter before retreating back.

Geralt swallowed thickly, but nodded “I… I understand…” the witcher stood then, walking over to the saddlebags, mainly to just have something to do.

“But…” He began, not looking back and fighting to keep his voice even “if you think I won’t be reminding you of your strength every single day from now on, Regis, you are sorely mistaken,” his tone was defiant, daring the vampire to oppose him on this.

Regis simply sighed, but a small smile sneaked its way passed his morose mind and onto his lips again.

 

When they passed the Cunny of the Goose the next day, it was still early morning and Novigrad rose up in front of them. For being called a “free city”, it carried a closer resemblance to a tomb stone to Geralt than that of a lively and bustling city. Even the golden rays of sun rise couldn’t erase the permanent dark cloud that seemed to cling over the city.

“Can you smell it?” Regis interrupted his musings.

“It’s faint, but the stench of burning flesh is present, yeah,” the witcher nodded and the vampire wrinkled his nose.

“Where do they even find all the people to burn?” He wondered aloud as they approached the bridge that would take them through the gates.

“I don’t think they much care for who it is they burn any more, so long they have someone to burn,” Geralt replied darkly, soot and old ash seemed to cling to the muddy streets, the walls and every other surface in all of Novigrad.

Regis had been correct though, the streets of Novigrad were still largely deserted for now. Only shop owners were preparing for the day. It suited the pair fine as they led their horses gently through the deteriorating streets, making their way towards the Chameleon tavern to see their old friends. The witcher was more than a little surprised to find no revelers still going at it outside the tavern, there also seemed to be little to no life within.

“No one home?” Regis asked as he got off of his horse.

 

“Good question, only one way to find out I guess,” Geralt frowned as he walked up to the door after tying Roach to the small stable area.

The door swung open easily when he tried it, and despite being dimly lit, the tavern was warm and smelled of pleasant food. He felt Regis approach from behind, he had become almost more than hyper aware of the other man as the lack of contact had stretched out over days.

“Anyone home?” He called out to distract himself from Regis’ close proximity.

“You’ve got to be kidding, a ploughing customer at this bloody time of day? I- Geralt!” The familiar voice of Zoltan grumbled before the dwarf came out from the kitchen, instantly brightening at seeing his dear friend. He clasped Geralt’s hand in a firm grip, grinning up at the witcher. Then he caught sight of the second man lingering in the door opening.

“No, can’t be! Well plough me sideways, Regis is that really you?!” He bellowed and pushed past Geralt to get a good look at him.

“Hello Zoltan, it’s been quite some time,” the vampire nodded with a small smile.

“Quite some time? You have got to be shitting me, you were a smoldering glob last I heard!” Zoltan took hold of Regis hand in an even firmer hand shake.

“Well, as you can see I got better,” a more full smile formed on the man’s lips.

“Got better, he says, ploughing vampires! Haha, Regis it is good to see you again!” the dwarf shook his hand vigorously as his laughter boomed.

“What is all this noise in the middle of the night….” A tired bard groaned as he descended the stairs.

“It’s morning, Dandelion…” the witcher huffed, rolling his eyes.

“Geralt, you should have told us you’d be coming!” the bard instantly chastised him, perking up quickly at the sight of his friend.

“More like a last minute decision to be honest, sort of. We wanted to stop by Dillingen, in Brugge, just made sense to continue North before we veer east towards Kaedwen,” Geralt elaborated.

“We?” The bard strained his neck to see behind Geralt, and broke out into a dramatic gasp “It can’t be!”

“Hello master Dandelion,” Regis greeted cordially, stepping forward and taking the bard’s hand in his own for a shake.

“When did you two run into one another?” the bard looked between the two men.

“Shortly after I arrived in Toussaint,” Geralt supplied.

“What? And you didn’t think to inform us that our dear vampiric friend was alive and well, when Zoltan and I came for a visit?!” the shorter man rounded on Geralt.

“As if got more than two words in when you visited,” was the snorted reply from the witcher.

“Ah, I was also otherwise preoccupied when you and Zoltan visited Toussaint. I was… helping another friend with some personal issues. It was some time later when I returned to Toussaint, to help Geralt with some vampire matters,” the man nodded to himself as he spoke in a fluent manner.

“He still could have mentioned, honestly Geralt,” the bard shook his head.

“Yeah, yeah. You got any food for us or what?” the white haired man glanced at the dwarf who gave a hearty laugh before waving over to one of the tables that looked the least sticky.

Regis seemed to loosen up some as he talked with Dandelion and Zoltan during the day, the enthusiasm of their longtime friend seemed contagious and made the vampire smile normally again. And they shared stories freely as morning bled into midday and then early afternoon.

Geralt stayed more in the background during it all, lost deep in thoughts and occasional admiration of the admiring the smiling and laughing man. He longed to taste that smile, feel the laughter against his own skin. For now just seeing Regis finally enjoying himself after the ordeals of Velen… it would have to be enough. Perhaps this would put the vampire in a better state of mind, the witcher could only hope.

“You’re looking rather pensive there, Geralt, even in good company,” a familiar voice spoke up beside him. He had been too deep in his thoughts to properly hear her approach.

“Priscilla,” He turned to face her in greeting, the female bard wrapped her arms around him in a friendly embrace. “It’s good to see you again,” the witcher continued.

“You as well,” she nodded, her voice still held its deeper pitch. It was nothing compared to the alternative of no voice at all. “But why the worried look, is something troubling you?” the bard prodded.

“Nothing, it’s nothing. I was just… contemplating a run in we had in Velen,” Geralt refused to elaborate further and Priscilla actually had the sense to not press him like Dandelion would have done.

“I see, well then who is your travel companion?” she turned her head to have a look at Regis who was just chuckling at something Zoltan had said, as Dandelion put on a grand pout.

“That’s Regis-“

“Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy?” she interrupted with a gasp.

“I uh… well yes?” the witcher blinked, taken by surprise.

“Dandelion has told me about him, oh he sounds most intriguing! Would you introduce me?” she beamed up at him, and Geralt could hardly refuse as she pulled him by the hand towards the table where the conversation halted.

Priscilla let go of Geralt’s hand then looked up at him expectantly, before smiling over at Regis, then looking back up at the witcher who cleared his throat.

“Ah, Regis, this is Priscilla. One of the newest additions to our friends, and somehow still a partner of Dandelion,” Geralt ignored the indignant huff of the seated poet as Priscilla darted her hand out and snatched Regis’ in her own, shaking it.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, honored to meet yet another legend,” She smiled and finally let his hand go. The vampire looked a little bewildered but managed to gather himself enough to smile back politely.

“I see, well the honor is mine to be able to meet such an energetic and kindly smiling lady,” the smile was more natural now, but showed no teeth.

“I forgot what a smooth talker he is….” Dandelion shifted a bit in his seat, trying not to show off his sudden bout of nerves. Geralt snorted and received a glare while Priscilla took the seat next to the bard.

“How’s your voice, Priscilla? It sounds a little lighter than before,” the witcher went on before his bard friend could rise to an embarrassing defense of his prowess or something equally ridiculous.

“Oh, it went a bit back to normal. I can still strain it easily though, and my throat, rather badly though if I do not watch out. So, no lengthy performances. It’s alright though, the fact that I regained my voice at all was a true blessing if I ever saw one,” she gave a wistful sigh, but it was accompanied with a small smile.

“Something happened to your throat and voice?” Regis leant forward a bit, intrigue clear in his eyes.

“It’s alright dear, Regis is a-“

“I know he is a healer and a surgeon, Dandelion, I’ve read your stories,” she interrupted with a roll of her eyes.

“Ah of course, hm, yes quite,” Dandelion shifted again, clearly not pleased at being denied the spot light again.

“Some years ago, I was attacked by a mad serial killer that prowled the streets of Novigrad. He thought he was doing the work of the Eternal Fire, punishing those who did not bow low before the doctrine. I only barely escaped with my life, but he managed to cut my voice box, and poured formaldehyde into my mouth,” the lady bard shivered as she told them the tale of the assault against her. The witcher was silently impressed a shiver was all she showed at the remembering of the horrific events.

“That’s…ghastly, and that is putting it too mildly as well… This individual was dealt with I hope?” Regis looked up at Geralt, frown marring his features.

“Yes,” the witcher nodded “he managed to kill others, he was illusive and clever. Eventually though I managed to track down the real culprit. He refused to come quietly, so I dealt with him the witcher way.”

“Good thing too, I should say, can you believe it was a vampire who went around killing in the name of the Eternal Fire?” Dandelion smacked his hand down onto the table for emphasis and Geralt could have strangled him as Regis’ expression faltered.

“Higher vampire, I would imagine?” Regis looked up at Geralt who shook his head.

“Katakan, older of course, he could assume human form and had for many years from what I gathered. That it was a vampire in this case is irrelevant though, Dandelion, he didn’t do it for blood. Though he was probably a lot smarter than any human with similar notions could be, and definitely more deadly. Doesn’t matter anymore, he’s dead and cremated. No regeneration,” the witcher crossed his arms over his chest, giving Dandelion a pointed look which the bard mostly ignored.

“Well, that’s certainly a relief then. Priscilla, tell me, do you take anything for your throat? Tonics perhaps?” Regis changed the subject smoothly, leaving no more room for the bard and witcher to bicker lest they wanted to interrupt his question.

“Only to soothe the pain if it gets really bad,” she admitted, for no tonics had really helped her otherwise other than when she was healing.

“Might you permit me a look? Perhaps I can brew you something that will help avoid the strain, it will certainly soothe you if the strain comes anyway,” the older man offered.

“Oh, that would be wonderful master Regis! Please, come this way!” she stood and led him to the stairs, taking him to her room. As they left noises resembling bickering started up almost instantly.

Priscilla let him into her room where he bade her sit down and open her mouth so he could see. There was scarring, plain to see, but all considering it had healed quite nicely. He hummed as he let go of the gentle hold he had of her jaw, allowing her to close her mouth again.

“I should think a strong tincture of mint, mixed with honey would do wonders to keep the strain at bay. However, I shall make you some of my tonics for colds and other bothers to the throat, I believe they will be of aid to you,” he concluded with a stroke of his chin, followed by a determined nod.

“Thank you, master Regis,” Priscilla smiled.

“Oh please, just Regis is fine. Perhaps you would allow me use of your kitchen? I believe I have all the ingredients I need,” he trailed off as he went through his mental inventory of what he had on hand.

“You don’t need to feel bad you know,” the lady bard interrupted his pondering.

“For what?” he gave an unsure smile, an attempt to feign confusion.

“Just because you are a vampire, and a vampire did this to me. Dandelion was positively giddy once he finally gave up and told me of his mysterious vampire friend,” she explained at the widening of Regis’ eyes. A giggle escaped her at the exasperated look that followed on the vampire’s features.

“I now agree whole heartedly with Geralt, Dandelion talks too much,” he sighed in defeat.

“He does at times,” Priscilla agreed “my point still stands, why should you feel bad for something you didn’t do?”

“It…It saddens, and frustrates me, when my kinsmen cannot behave in a way that lessens the already nefarious rumors about us. If the musings of our elders are true, and the door home will one day open again, we are but guests here. Meaning, we should show our hosts proper respect and not go about terrorizing the countryside or haunt the streets at night,” he let his eyes focus on the floor, despite her words he felt shame for his brethren’s actions. His own actions against Geralt not even a week ago.

“That is very noble of you, but vampires are individuals, just as humans are, and the elder races. You cannot control what they do, you can be a voice of reason amongst calls of madness, but that still does not make you responsible for your kin’s actions. Am I responsible for what mad king Radovid did during the war?” she tilted her head to the side, her blonde locks falling over her shoulder.

“Well… of course not, but-“

“You are your own person, Regis, if you’ll allow me to say so. I am not the whole human race, and just like me, you are not the whole of the vampire race. In fact, from what I have heard, you are a rather remarkable man,” she offered him a smile as he felt his face warm at her kind words. Words he felt he did not truly deserve.

“You raise… interesting points that I feel I should have thought of myself,” he chuckled, a little listlessly.

“We are the most blind when observing ourselves,” she winked at him, “Dandelion described you as ultimately a kind, and honest man. A learned man who above all else is caring and shows that care to all, and now that I have met you for myself… I know all these things to be true. Nothing would make me happier than to be able to count you among my friends,” she rose to her feet, standing in front of him, her voice ringing honest in his ears.

“Your words humble me greatly, Priscilla, I would be… honored to count you among my friends as well,” he managed to press out, his voice obviously laced with thick emotion. The bard’s kind smile widened.

With promises to start brewing her tonics as soon as possible, Regis left Priscilla’s room and went up to the room where he and Geralt had previously left their things. He was rather surprised to find Geralt in the middle of ridding himself of his shirt, a sullen look on his face.

“Everything alright?” he asked as the witcher glanced over at him.

“Everything is fine, I decided to retire early,” the man replied, folding his shirt before sitting down on the bed, pulling his boots off.

“The evening is still in its infancy, I’d say,” Regis decided to press him ever so gently.

“I am not in the mood for drink and banter right now, also, patrons started showing. Not really in that kind of social mood,” Geralt admitted as he set his boots aside. The vampire regarded him for a moment, Priscilla’s words still fresh in his mind.

“I am sorry for the distance that has sprouted between us, but let me just say I do not believe I overreacted in inducing this distance,” Regis closed the door properly.

 

“I understand why, Regis, I only wished you would listen to the rest of what happened that night…Perhaps then you would see why I say what I do, and why I am in no way repelled by what happened. It is in fact not just because of my “poor self-preservation” as you sometimes put it,” the witcher met his eyes, and held his gaze firmly, clearly determined.

Regis sighed before he went to the bed closest to the door and sat down, facing Geralt. “Then tell me, what happened after… that, to your neck…” he swallowed thickly and tried to avoid looking at the already paling scars.

“Regis, you didn’t start drinking my blood, you stopped.”

The vampire’s eyes widened as he looked at him, face spelling bewilderment, disbelieving.

“I don’t know how or what happened, but you recognized me somehow. Regis, you whimpered and cleaned my wound, healing it up faster. You refused to do her bidding, refused to give into bloodlust. She punished you greatly for it, cast you into deeper pain. Still you refused until she left you. You defied one of the most powerful and freaky creatures I have ever encountered Regis,” he spoke quickly, but got surer in his words as he went on.

Regis’ mouth was hanging slightly agape, eyes still wide as he stared at the witcher who cast his eyes down for a moment.

“I don’t understand… I stopped? You speak true?” but he already knew Geralt had spoken true, for something felt right about what the witcher had just told him.

“You stopped, because you knew me. You would never have done anything even close to that if an ancient and extremely creature hadn’t spellbound you or whatever it was she did,” the witcher rose abruptly, Regis eyes were still wide as he stared at the witcher.

Flashes of memories of the night Geralt had just described coming back to him, the memory of Geralt’s blood on his lips and the shocking and painful realization that he had bit to feed off of his mate. He remembered a horrifying voice pushing him to sink his fangs in deeper, tear at flesh, and then the pain when he refused to do so. He needed to protect his mate from this, at all cost Geralt had to be protected. Geralt.

Geralt was right in front of him, kneeling down, leaning closer. Regis simply slumped down against him once the witcher wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace. He had missed being close, to properly draw in the scent of him again. A sound between a sob and sigh of relief escaped him as he wrapped his own arms around Geralt’s naked shoulders.

Eternity seemed to pass as they once more took comfort from one another’s arms, until Geralt pulled away slightly eyes taking in his lover’s face. A small quirk of the lips was all the indication Regis got before lips pressed against his own. His witcher tasted faintly of herbal drink, and Regis was quickly lost to the taste and feel of his witcher. Geralt clearly did not wish to waste the opportunity as his lips soon strayed to Regis’ jaw, down to his neck, hands pushing away clothing with trained ease.  
Undressed down to just his leggings, Regis would usually have placed his face in the crook of Geralt’s neck right about now. But the vampire could hear the witcher’s hammering pulse, and the he thought he could taste the blood on his tongue once more. He tensed, and made to pull away. Geralt wouldn’t let him though, and trapped his head with his arms, forcibly pressing Regis face against his neck. The man sputtered and tried to draw away, but the witcher was stubborn.

“Geralt!” he hissed and tried to wriggle away.

Refusing to let go, they ended up struggling like children upon the bed, Geralt keeping Regis close and the vampire trying to get away. He didn’t know if the thundering pulse was Geralt’s or his own.

“Will you let go, you absolute shit!” Regis gave up trying to plead which resulted in a lot baser language than what usually came from the man’s lips. It only irked him further when the witcher only laughed in reply.

“Geralt, I swear I will ploughing throw you-“

“Feeling the urge to bite yet?” Geralt interrupted his oncoming tirade.

“What?” he stilled in the witcher’s arms.

“See, Regis…” Geralt gathered him up again, Regis now pressed close to his neck again where he could hear the witcher’s pulse calming already. The sound didn’t distress him as he thought they would, they were oddly calming. A reminder that his Geralt, his mate, was alive and well… he turned slowly so he could meet Geralt’s eyes.

“I trust you with more than my life, and I will always trust you. You are one of the strongest person I know, and you are a lot stronger than what you think you are,” he brought his hand up to his unruly hair, letting fingers slip through the strands.

Regis was finally allowed to leave Geralt’s grip, and he got up enough to hoover his face over Geralt’s.

“You are insufferable,” he sighed as he pressed his forehead against the head of the smirking witcher. “But I love you, and thank you,” he whispered as he felt a hand gently placed against his jaw before he was drawn into a soft kiss.

Soft kisses and slow touches became more fevered as they reacquainted themselves with one another. Geralt pressed open mouthed kisses against Regis neck, nipping gently to the vampire’s delight. Regis’ fingers trailed down over Geralt’s neck, feeling the fading scars there and found he was not as bothered by them as he had been before. He buried his face against Geralt’s neck as the witcher’s hands went down to push at his leggings, the man’s pulse hammered loudly, his scent stood out loud and clear to Regis’ sensitive nose. But there was no desire to break skin and taste the blood flowing in the witcher’s veins. He smiled as he closed his eyes, pressing his own lips against damp skin, reveling in the breathy sigh he drew from the witcher.

Geralt made quick work of his leggings, and went on to work on ridding himself of his own trousers. Regis got bolder in his renewed exploring of Geralt’s upper body with tongue and the occasional nip of teeth. He groaned as the vampire first kissed, then gently pulled a budding nipple. His concentration was momentarily lost until Regis’ hand found his own, impatient to feel the rest of Geralt’s skin against his. Finally free of his trousers, they both gasped as they got to move together fully again.

“I want all of you Regis,” Geralt whispered to him after kissing his way up the vampire’s neck, feeling near feverish.

“You hardly need to ask, Geralt,” Regis replied, eyes heavy lidded and a half dazed smile adorning his lips.

Geralt wasted no time getting off the bed to rummage through his pack, finding the bottle he was looking for. Regis turned to lie on his side, propping himself up on one elbow as he let his eyes roam over the witcher’s naked form. The witcher was already half hard once he turned back to Regis, equally obvious as he let his eyes roam over the older man’s naked form. He walked back to the bed, Regis reaching for him and drawing him in. He pulled the witcher on top of him again, a chuckle escaping them both as Geralt just slumped over him.

Gentle hands brushed over warming skin, feeling their way down to the witcher’s hips. Regis pressed lips against Geralt’s neck as the man tried to maneuver the bottle, trying to open it while the vampire did his best to drive him to distraction. Regis gasped, and quickly grinned as he felt the witcher’s coated fingers brush past his abdomen.

Geralt pinned him down with a heavy kiss as he prepared his lover, drawing delighted gasps and small moans from the older man. He smirked against kiss swollen lips as he felt an impatient buck of hips beneath him. He took his time though, it felt like an eternity had passed since he could touch, or draw in his Regis fully. He was going to enjoy every last second of this, remind Regis of the sensations they were both addicted to.

“Geralt…” the other groaned lowly, looking up at him, eyes filled with cloudy lust. The witcher found he could deny him no longer, and he pushed inside, swallowing his vampire’s cries with an open mouthed kiss.

“Mm… damn I missed you, Regis…” he purred into his ear, rolling his hips slowly and reveling in the words that melted into incoherent glee from the other man.

They stayed like this, pressed close to one another as Geralt rolled his hips against Regis, the man writhing in delight beneath him. His clawed hands scratched lightly over the witcher’s back, throwing his head back against the pillow as Geralt angled himself just right. It was by no means a hurried affair, but that didn’t mean there was no passion and heat. Geralt could feel himself burning as Regis’ hand made it up to the back of his head, drawing him into a desperate kiss as the slow pace continued.

It was wondrous torture and healing all rolled into one, the sounds became impossible to contain as they steadily climbed to their peak together. Regis had his arms wrapped around him in a tight grip, holding him as close as possible as he cried out past his shoulder.

“Ngh, Regis…” Geralt could muster no more words as he felt his entire body tense, and his senses narrowing, only aware of Regis and himself. He could feel the tight heat around him, the slight sting of where Regis’ fingernails had rasped him, the man’s hot breath against his neck. He gave a final groan before slumping down over the similarly panting man.

They lay like that for a while, pressed together, breathing the other in as they slowly came down from their high. Regis gave a low chuckle that made Geralt prop his head up, looking at the other man. The vampire had his eyes closed, but his lips were caught in a lazy smile.

“Something amusing?” He smiled a little as he moved to lie down beside Regis instead.

“No, I am just… too pleased to keep the sound inside,” the vampire cracked open an eye, looking at him for a bit before his smile widened. “I love you.”

The grin found the witcher before he realized it was plastered on his face, he pressed his face against Regis’ neck, nuzzling against him.

It was almost too easy to fall into a proper rest afterwards, when they felt safe, happy and sated. Finally together again, like they were meant to.


	2. Scurry, Scurry in a Hurry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this update isn't late at all. Sorry about that.
> 
> But as a birthday gift to myself I decided to give school work the finger this time around, and was miraculously hit by my muse as I glanced over some wonderful witcher art.

_  
Eeper Weeper, Old grounds keeper,  
He tied a noose tight and bled.  
His life it ended,  
The neck was bended,  
But awoken he was to keep her fed.  
_

Geralt woke with a start, the eerie children’s voices still lingering in his head. He hadn’t heard that verse before… was this a curse? Something that had latched onto him? He frowned up at the ceiling. The eerie feeling soon fled him though as the scent of herbs and spice drifted over to him. He sat up and looked over at where Regis was seated by the desk in the room, in deep concertation as he stirred in some powder into a tonic he was working on. 

“That for Priscilla?” He asked as he sat up more fully.

“Oh, Geralt, good morning! And yes, I promised her I would have some for her before we were on our way again.” Regis glanced over to him with a smile before turning back to his preparations. 

The witcher swung his legs out over the bed’s edge, walking over to his vampire and kissing the top of his head before turning to find his clothes, he didn’t miss the small chuckle from the other man and smiled to himself. 

“I’m going downstairs to see if there is any decent food in this establishment,” he announced as he put his hand on the door. 

“I do not need any, but I will be down soon to give some of this a decent boil up. Hopefully they will help the lovely trobairitz with her voice,” 

“She’s a keeper that one, for sure, here’s hoping Dandelion actually has changed and realizes this,” the witcher huffed to himself before letting himself out of the room.   
He wandered at a leisurely pace down the stairs, feeling light and warm again now that he and Regis had finally worked out the incident between them. He felt stronger for it, felt his bond with the other man being strengthened, and his love for him swell and threaten to spill from him at any given moment. He schooled his face into a more usual expression than constantly smiling as he reached the hall of Dandelion’s establishment. No other patron was yet in sight, the only ones there were Dandelion and Zoltan at one of the tables.

“Mornin’ Geralt, you left us rather early last nite!” Zoltan hummed as Geralt took a seat next to the dwarf. There was food on the table, bread, cheese, sliced ham and jams set out for them. 

“Long travel and all that, went through Velen on a dumb whim,” he grunted and shrugged before reaching out for some of the bread. He glanced over at Dandelion when he felt the man’s stare, but the bard quickly looked away when the witcher returned his look. Geralt arched a brow.

“Ugh, that place could suck the marrow out of anyone, how some folk lives there. Well beyond me and then some!” Zoltan snorted and tore into a larger piece of ham. 

“I said “dumb whim” for a reason,” the witcher huffed and looked at the dwarf beside him, and again he felt the bard’s eyes on him.

“Something bothering you, Dandelion?” Geralt turned abruptly and caught him staring, leaving the other no way or means of escape.

“No, no not at all. Simply been some time since last time, hasn’t it and… and you bringing Regis too, yes, quite the surprise!” the bard’s mouth ran along. 

“Right, and Queen Maeve wants to make me a nobleman and give me the best house in Rivia. Out with it Dandelion,” the witcher groused, annoyed at the bard’s little dance of avoidance. The bard looked like he struggled physically for long moments, twisting in his seat before his mouth opened and all spilled forth.

“I overheard last night,” he began and hurried to continue before he could be interrupted “I had gone up to find you, I wanted to ask you something you see, and as I walked down the hall-“

“Cut the theatrics, Dandelion, you don’t need to paint a picture.” Geralt arched a brow.

“I…. I heard you and… and Regis and, Geralt, you were _not_ talking!” the bard’s voice had entered into a hissy whisper, like this was some insane little secret that had to have some kind of supernatural explanation judging by the expectant look the bard was sending him now.  
Geralt leant back and looked both his old friends over.

“And? What of it? Any of you have a problem that me and Regis have found something with one another?” He narrowed his eyes at the clear shock on Dandelion’s face.

“Course not, laddie!” Zoltan boomed first without hesitation. “Regis is a fine lad, and a whole world calmer and…. Well row of other things than certain lasses we know.” He grinned and winked, and the witcher had to shake his head and chuckle at the dwarf’s use of ‘lad’ on someone well over 400 years old. 

“That he is, I’ve found peace with him.”

“See? Good on ye both!”   
Dandelion however did not exactly look convinced. Geralt didn’t get any time to press him before the bard floundered on in his now doubled shock.

“How, how can you be with him? He’s… well he’s a he, Geralt! There’s no soft lines, no curves. No perky breasts, or soft petals to welcome one into its hidden heat!”  
Geralt and Zoltan both groaned at the frankly ridiculous poetic waxing from Dandelion, Zoltan kept on shaking his head while the witcher regarded his old friend for a little while. He saw the genuine confusion on the bard’s face and it irked him. 

“Listen, Dandelion, I have been with Regis now for well over a year. I love him, and I have never felt so at ease, and so comfortable with anyone before. “The bard’s eyes widened at the honest admission before darting over to the vampire who had just reached the end of the stairs, potion and poultice bottles in hand. 

Geralt rose to his feet and marched over to his beloved who looked at him with a puzzled tilt of the head before he was grabbed and soundly kissed by a resolute witcher. Once they parted the disapproving look Regis sent him was already utterly ruined by the near eager response he had gotten. He smirked at the man he loved before turning back to the two still at the table.

“You don’t have to understand it, Dandelion, just accept it.”

“O-of course I do, Geralt, I’m sorry I didn’t mean anything untoward with my surprise! You are among my oldest and dearest friends, and nothing will ever change that. Of course.” He nodded quickly. 

“Good,” He walked back to the table, but before getting back into his seat he leant down over the bard. “And Dandelion, the sex is fucking amazing with him,” he near purred and delighted in how Dandelion became dangerously close to his face matching his outfit in color.

“Geralt!” came the scandalized outcry from Regis, while Zoltan and Geralt both laughed wholeheartedly. 

 

They spent two days with their friends in Novigrad, Geralt feeling unburdened once again as he felt himself reconnecting with his Regis, their bond deepening. On occasions Dandelion would catch them in affectionate moments, and the bard still seemed a bit baffled at the entire thing. After Geralt had recalled his humorous meeting with the elf Elihal, he doubted Dandelion’s bafflement came from disgust or confusion at the very idea of two men. It was probably more towards the fact that Dandelion thought he knew Geralt to be a relentless womanizer who couldn’t wait to bed whatever feisty sorceress or busty wench he came across.   
The bard had finally come full circle and believed his own embellishments and lies, and Geralt could only snort whenever he spotted Dandelion caught in his own confusion and bewilderment. 

On the third day however, they readied to depart right after breakfast.

“Aw, you sure you don’t want to stay any longer?” Priscilla smiled at the vampire, who returned the expression in kind. 

“Alas no, although the company of old friends, and the creation of new ones have been absolutely delightful; we shouldn’t wait much more before making our way over the mountain passes. He actually complains about coldness now.” Regis nodded his head at the witcher and smirked at his glower, and the poetess’ giggle. 

“Safe travels to ya, lads. And say hi to Eskel an Lambert, if ye see them at Kaer Morhen.” Zoltan grinned and clasped Geralt’s forearm.

“Will do,” Geralt simply agreed.

“And do not wait so long till you visit again, we’re supposed to be friends. Friends meet up every now and then Geralt,” Dandelion pointed out with a pointed look on his face.

“It’s only been little over a year, Dandelion,” the witcher sighed. 

“A year can be a very long time for us normal lifespan mortals!” The bard cried.

“Speak for yerself,” Zoltan grunted.

“I am sure we will be fine,” Priscilla soothed with a soft smile, taking Dandelion’s hand. 

They did a final round of goodbyes before Geralt and Regis were on their way out of the city again. They got their horses back from the stable and paid the stable master handsomely for the good care. They followed the main road this time, except for cutting through and avoiding Oxenfurth (and more importantly, Velen.) entirely. They were close to Tretogor when they made it back to the main road, but none of them had any wish to visit the capital of Redania. Even Regis agreed with a low hum when Geralt called it “A cesspool of human cruelty and despair”. Even though Radovid was long dead and likely in a crypt somewhere in the city, Redania’s people had latched onto their former king’s tendency to push blame onto those viewed as different. Now ruled by Nilfgaard’s steel clad hand, the locals were seemingly itching to unleash their frustrations on those deemed unnatural or non-human. If there were any elves or dwarves left in Redania at this point, they were either very good at hiding or kept for personal amusement in a rich man’s cellar. 

Neither man wanted to dwell too much on these gloomy topics, they made a point out of getting away from the blood stained land as quickly as possible. 

“I’m pretty sure I’ll actually feel a lot better the moment I step onto Kaedweni grounds,” Geralt grumbled.

“Hm… yes, I have to agree with you, love. It’s almost as if a miasma of hate and disdain hangs in the very air whenever we approach a settlement. I for one am glad Dandelion gave us such an amount of provisions,” the vampire agreed, and Geralt tried to suppress the warm smile that threatened to break out despite the somber mood around them. And it was simply called forth by Regis’ easy affection for him that had begun peeking out more often when the vampire spoke. Of course he never did in public, although Geralt was decently sure they could handle anyone who found their companionship otherly enough to attack, it was best to just avoid such situations entirely as possible. He knew Regis agreed. 

 

They did a short stop in a settlement at the foot of the Kestrel Mountains, although they were still in the middle of autumn, the weather up in the mountains could shift quickly. Doubly so for such a treasonous season autumn usually was for the highlands. Eager to finally leave Redania behind though, they simply stocked up at the town’s general trader and set off, planning to make one last camp in the woods before starting the climb. 

“Think we’re far enough away from them now, light is leaving fast.” The witcher looked over his shoulder at his beloved who looked thoughtful for a moment, drawing the air deeply for a moment. 

“I believe so, I cannot sense any immediate human presence anymore. Although, why would the light be any kind of issue, we can both see fine. And we could lea the horses ourselves if needs must,” he chuckled.

“Perhaps,” Geralt drawled back as he swung his leg over Roach’s back easily and planted his feet firmly in the ground. “But I’d rather not have to use axii every ten minutes on her, Roach isn’t very fond of the dark.”

“Some witcher horse she is,” the vampire snorted but got off his own horse as well, leading him into the denser forest to shield them from prying eyes. 

“Besides, I have every intention on having an early celebration for finally leaving this shit stain of a country. Picked up a bottle of Est Est even.” He shot Regis a satisfied smirk which was met with a roll of the eyes. 

“How very unique and wholly remarkable,” he commented dryly. 

“It’s Redania, Regis, be glad they have red wine at all.”

“I am actually starting to miss the White Wolf, it had a very wholesome flavor. No, Geralt, do not say what is on your mind right now, please,” He held his hand up, making Geralt slowly close his opening mouth with a slight frown. 

 

They made camp with practice efficiency and ate their way bread and dried foods in amicable silence before Geralt went over to his pack and fished out the promised bottle of Est Est, before sitting down close to Regis. They drank straight from the bottle, sharing it as was their custom by now. By the time the bottle was near done and the stars shone brightly above them, Geralt leant even closer and whispered.

“Hey Regis?”

“Mmm?”

“This White Wolf has a pretty wholesome taste too.” He smirked.

“You, are absolutely horrible and incorrigible Geralt of Rivia, you have shamed your ancestors. You have even, if they should exist, shamed the gods.” Regis gesticulated wildly with one hand to mark his disgust.

“Pf, you love me.”

“Gods, if they should exist, please help me… but yes I do,” he sighed heavily as if this was one of the greatest burdens he had ever taken on. But he was fooling no one, the smile was almost wide enough to reveal his pointed teeth. So Geralt reached out and pulled the vampire’s face close to his own so he could kiss those delectable lips stained with red wine. 

He loved having Regis above him, loved having those intense eyes devourer him even before he was fully undressed. The kisses burned wherever they touched, drew a trail of fire from his throat and down to his bared abdomen. He let his head tip backwards and groaned quietly at the torture, the sweetest kind that he would be begging to get to feel again. The sooner, the better…

Regis moved as if he had all the time in the world, and placed kisses as if he had made it his life’s goal to kiss and taste every inch of skin bared to him in this moment. Geralt was complaining, the arousal smoldering within him and still felt just as intense as when it burned hot and blazing. 

“Regis…” He groaned lowly as the man nipped at the inside of his thigh. 

“Getting impatient already are we?” He chuckled, those dark vibrations dangerously close to that place which was almost crying for attention.

“Nh… too good…” The witcher trailed off with a grunt as Regis heaved himself up and lay down on top of him. 

“It’s not too good until there is a lot of crying out, and swearing. And I don’t particularly advise that at the moment, although I would absolutely love to hear your lovely voice turn up an octave or two,” Regis purred as his hand closed loosely around Geralt’s arousal, making him gasp. “Alas, I shall make do with this for now, I strongly suggest we find a nice, quiet spot when we get down from the mountains. Don’t you agree, love?” He stole Geralt’s answer by crushing his lips to the witcher’s just as his grip firmed around him. Regis’ other hand was busying itself by finding all the spots that gave Geralt delighted shivers, while his mouth made the witcher’s head fill with lust tinted fog. 

It truly did become too good that night, but by that time none of them gave any damns if they were heard. 

 

By a spot of luck, or good favor, the crossing of the Kestrel Mountain pass went quick and painless. The weather remained fair, and the cold had yet to set in properly to make the road icy and perilous to travel by. Kaedwen, with all its faults and own cruelty still felt a lot more welcoming and light compared to Redania. And from there the witcher figured the trip to Kaer Morhen would be easy and manageable so long they beat the first snow before they had to climb the mountains again. 

His sigh of relief however, had come too soon. 

It was just dumb chance that saw them entering through the gates of Ard Carraigh that day, they had both wanted a night in a proper inn where everyone wouldn’t stare at them as regulars in smaller inns were wont to do. Beds not stuffed with straw were also high on the list, so they had made for the Kaedweni capital as it was on the way anyway.   
Geralt felt as if he had barely made it through the gates before they were near accosted by crying townsfolk. 

“A witcher! It’s a witcher, like they said!”

“Oh witcher, please, please help us!”

“We can pay, whatever you want!”   
Several voices cried out to them, making Roach nervous. He patted her neck before stepping down from her. 

“Hold on a minute, what’s going on?” He demanded. “And don’t speak all at once, you,” he pointed at one of the women who were sniveling the least. “What’s all this noise for?”

“Our children, master witcher, our children are being taken. They disappear in the middle o’ the night, some straight from their beds!” Her eyes bore into his, unflinching from his mutated appearance but panicked all the same, for a wholly different reason. 

“How long has this been going on?” He looked out over the group, which has become a crowd now.

“Jenna’s boy has been gone two months now!” someone cried in the back. 

“My Daw has been gone a fortnight, oh please, please help us Master Witcher!” desperate wails from the group followed. Names being tossed at his feet and begging him for their salvation. 

“I’ve already started, quit the begging. And again, don’t answer all at once! Have anyone noticed anything about the disappearances? Patterns, noises? Smells? Anything.” He heard Regis dismount his own horse behind him, but didn’t look back at his lover. He already knew Regis would also want to help on this, children had been a soft spot ever since the massacre at Orianna’s orphanage had taken place. 

What followed his request for information was clearly a jumble of rumors. Some thought they heard disembodied children crying in the night, some said there were eerie singing when the moon was full, some claimed to have heard it to be a women, while other's claimed the song belonged to a man.  
After appeasing the crowd with promises to do his best at finding out what had happened, they were finally left alone once more. 

“I do not wish to sound like a downright cynic in such dark times, but given the time that has passed…”

“I know, I don’t have much hope for finding anyone alive. But if we can stop whatever this is from taking another kid, and give some parents some closer… That wouldn’t be all too bad either.” Geralt eyed one couple still standing in the square, the man helplessly trying to console his woman overcome with grief.

“I agree,” Regis spoke quietly as the led their horses past the couple.

They found a decent tavern complete with stables where they could leave their horses. They got a room for themselves from a dejected looking innkeeper, they didn’t need to ask if he as well was short one or two children. They left their packs up in their rooms and went outside again as Geralt wanted the lay of the city, just look around and hopefully have something pop up although chances were slim and they both knew it. As the evening dragged on the streets grew thin with people, only the occasional courtesan and drunkard made the near obligatory appearance, and even these were fewer in number than what would be normal. The entire city was noticeably marked by the dark on goings within its walls. 

“What comes to mind first would be slavers, but the way these kids are snatched from their beds in the middle of the night with little to no sign of forced entry and their parents guarding doors… I am willing to bet that this isn’t the work of some greedy low lives,” Geralt ground out as walked slowly through the streets. 

“Indeed, and there are regrettably too many creatures that easily develop a taste or preference for children.” Regis frowned. 

“There was a spriggan in Toussaint that managed to abduct children and likely consumed them, but I’ve never heard of spriggans coming close to big cities, and certainly not inside. Unless there are more natural habitat within the city I guess, but Ard Carraigh doesn’t boast that either.”

“I’ve heard of fey creatures stealing children, but they supposedly leave their own children in the human child’s place. Honestly I think it sounds like humanity’s feeble attempts at explaining away undesired behavior and personality that they cannot control in their own children,” the vampire sniffed in an indignant manner. 

“Changelings do exist, but 7 out of 10 times those claimed to be changelings are actually just regular humans with different behavior or inborn different perception of the world we live in, like you said. I’m impressed.” He shot his vampire a brief grin before getting serious once more. “Hags are usually a more likely culprit when it comes to kidnapping children, and they have the means to abduct them out of locked rooms if they so wish…”

“But?” Regis prodded.

“Hm… but hags are almost just as unlikely as spriggans to target cities like this. And they have this weird thing where they want it to almost feel like a tribute, something freely given to them by others. Hence all those stories about candy trails to the witch’s house and what not.”

“Alright, and although it pains me to say it… this could be the work of a higher vampire, who perhaps didn’t have the idea of opening an orphanage like Orianna did. I am in no way, shape, or form agreeing or condoning what she did,” he added quickly before continuing “but if we say this is a higher vampire abducting children for their blood or even, perhaps more disturbingly, sport… well they would also have the means to get into a supposedly locked room and spirit a small child away with little to no problem.”

“Yeah, vampire was high on the list. Sorry Regis, no offense.”

“None taken, and if it is a vampire, he or she is clearly out of control and needs to be stopped,” he spoke firmly. 

“Agreed, but we cannot rule out the possibility that this is something entirely different. There are still others who could also perform such feats, largely unhindered by physical boundaries,” the witcher continued. 

 

As the discussion went on between the two men, a pair of eyes watched the curiously, while a pair of hands clutched a cut coin purse tightly. Had to hurry home before the moon rose too high, and before the drunk around the corner noticed he was a handful of coins lighter than before. Light feet scurried away from the deserted market place, moving quick enough to avoid the narrowed gaze of the witcher as he turned around, feeling the faint impression of eyes at his back.

Hurry home, scurry home.  
Over wet stones, and dingy holes.  
Surrounded by the scent of mold.  
Cries of the lost,  
home,   
home,  
 _home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, me. This gift of a writing moments was a great pleasure indeed!
> 
> Also a huge thank you and hug to Seherrons who kept believing in me and my muse when I thought said muse was dead and buried under school work and life angst. Hopefully it won't take quite so long to update this fic again considering I have the entire plot mapped out now. Here is hoping!
> 
> Also, small note, this is almost a completely raw chapter so there might be overlooked errors. I just wanted to get it out there as a birthday gift for myself before my actual birthday. I shall rewrite later!


	3. Not all with sight, see

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap:
> 
> Geralt and Regis have traveled from Novigrad, where they reunited with their old friends (and the two lovers reconciled after "The Velen Incident") and revealed their relationship to them. They now find themselves in Kaedwen's capital Ard Carraigh where children seemingly have vanished into thin air. Many of the townspeople turned to the witcher with pleas for help to find their loved ones. Geralt and Regis have accepted the case and are now starting to look into the strange, and terrific, case with only speculations to go on thus far.

_  
Eeper Weeper, old grounds keeper,  
Could not die for all he tried,  
Our children you murdered,  
With life you are burdened,  
Until our children home you guide.  
_

It had never happened during meditation before. The witcher’s eyes snapped open to the dim light of their shared room at the inn they had taken into. Regis had opted to have a look at the city throughout the night, in hopes that he would spot something or perhaps learn of something new. The long ride had forced Geralt back to the inn to get some semblance of rest before he fully tackled this curious, and upsetting case. It wasn’t a contract yet per say, but with the circumstances Geralt didn’t feel comfortable hunting down someone to give him a promised of a reward. 

He rose from his meditative position, trying to shake off that eerie whisper as it snaked through his mind. All the alarm bells blared within him, urging him to fight or flee. But how could you fight that which you couldn’t see, and how to run when you didn’t know where it came from. The witcher frowned as he made his way over to the tiny window in the room. Through stained glass he could see the city coming awake, but there was no such bustle of activity one would usually see in a big city like this. People looked haggard, glancing around themselves nervously. A mother passed under his window with her child’s hand firmly held in her own. She turned her head in every direction, in-between checking that her child hadn’t been spirited away while she scouted for danger. This menace, whatever it was, had gone on for way too long already. 

 

He found Regis down in the tavern, his vampire knew his rhythms too well it seemed, for he had ordered A decent size breakfast to share between them. 

“You look troubled, Geralt.” The vampire frowned as he eyed his lover when he sat down opposite of him. 

“This case is unsettling, no trace anywhere. There are usually traces, Regis. When children appear to be spirited away they truth is often …not good,” he lowered his voice as some early patrons walked into the tavern, footsteps heavy and dreary. 

“Mm, I must admit I have also not found any traces as you call them. I have located and pin pointed some families whose children simply vanished. I suggest we focus on the ones who just upped and vanished from their very homes. For although I would never suggest it to a grieving family, children lost while outside the city might not be our foul perpetrator at all.”

“You’re right, and the suggestion is a good one. Outside of the walls could be anything really, considering witcher’s don’t stay too long here. Ironically perhaps, seeing we are relatively close,” Geralt continued his quiet speech. It would do no good if people overheard this and had their memories of the massacre returned to the forefront of their minds.

“Attacking witcher schools seems to have dire repercussions for generations to come.” Regis shook his head with a small smile. “Though such idiocy should indeed be punished, but I am glad you accepted to look into this regardless.”  
“Children aren’t their parents or forefathers, yet at least.”  
“Too true.” The vampire nodded. 

 

They finished with the breakfast before Regis led the way to one of the families he had found, when he began heading into the finer parts of town Geralt arched a brow.

“If they got a ransom note I am not interested,” he huffed.

“Please Geralt, I’ve done the homework. The couple had only one son, it’s true, but there has been no word. And the boy has been gone for more than a month.”

“Better.” 

“And please don’t speak like that around them, lest you want to deal with well warranted hysterics.” Regis sent him a look before knocking on the door he had stopped in front of. 

“Contrary to what many, mainly sorceresses, believe: I am socially adept,” he stated firmly, lips twitching at the faint chuckled from his vampire. 

 

They were ushered inside before they could even introduce themselves, the servant greeting them near dragged them along to where the master and his wife currently were. 

“Oh master witcher it is absolutely dreadful,” the lady sniffled the moment she saw him, procuring a handkerchief from somewhere upon her person. “He was right beside me in the market place, I hardly let him wander and I keep my eye on him at all times. I just blinked and he wasn’t there anymore, oh!” she wailed, Geralt felt a head ache coming along due to the added theatrics. 

“Your son was grabbed in the market square in broad daylight? And nobody saw anything?” Regis sounded as perplex as Geralt felt, being grabbed anywhere within the city during the day usually left witnesses. 

“None,” the lord answered instead of his wife. “Even if my wife failed to watch our beloved Kazimir, I never let them out of the house without proper escort. Two of my most trusted guards were there that day, and I know for a fact their testimonies are good and true. They saw nothing, Kazimir was there one moment, and the next he had vanished completely.”

“Lot of people in the market square during daytime though, could have been swept up in a crowd,” the witcher commented, mostly musing to himself but the lady was quick to reply.

“Don’t be foolish, we go at hours reserved for the more refined inhabitants of this city. Our new king has promised us a separate market square though and I say good riddance. The point still stand, my precious little Kazimir vanished from the market square, midday, with not too many people. By all that is good and holy master witcher, find or son and we shall reward you handsomely for his safe return!”

“Yes of course, we shall do our best. But Kazimir isn’t the only one who has vanished, and if this is indeed a connected case we should also look to the other children who have disappeared,” Regis tried a diplomatic approach, but at the very mention of ‘others’ the couple’s looks soured.

“Our Kazimir isn’t like those other children!” the lady sniffed indignantly.

“Riff raff and urchins, or so dirt poor that the parents themselves probably sold them off somewhere to have more money to spill on whatever it was that made them poor in the first place,” the lord huffed. 

“And you people fall into the category more money than sense, I see,” Geralt’s voice drawled, interrupting the building tirade. 

“I beg your pardon?” The fine dressed man seemed almost to puff himself up, it would have been amusing had his previous words not been as misplaced in the already grave situation and circumstance. 

“How you feel about the other kids who are not your own, is of no interest to me. These other kids however, are of great interest. If the same happened to them, it would be easier to find a pattern. If we find a pattern we would be better equipped to find the children, or what happened to them, much faster. In matters such as these, time is all the difference between life and death. So I suggest you cough up a name or direction for me to go in, if you even want your son back at all,” the witcher’s voice was cold as ice, chilling the very room they sat in. 

They were granted another name after that, Geralt barely let them wave out directions before he left positively fuming. The mother of the family they were directed to had been a maid at the house, had been let go because of how her being distraught over her daughter’s disappearance had distracted her from her work.

“Such a lack of what you call common human decency,” Regis spoke quietly as they left the richer parts of town. 

“Rich, upper class folk are seldom human, Regis. They need a life changing event, or to be thrown off their cushiony chairs and beds to go through the transformation. If we did the mirror curse on all of the upper class in this town or any town, we’d have an epidemic of monsters of such brutality and baseless greed never before seen,” the witcher grit out as they entered through an archway signaling their decent into the dwellings of those of lesser fortune.  
Regis observed his witcher’s tense shoulders, but said nothing. All of his words would simply confirm what the witcher clearly knew already. 

 

House was probably a generous description of what really had to be a shack squeezed in between two tall, but equally as run down, buildings close to the southern gates. At least the roof looked decently whole, and the visible windows were pulled shut tightly. If a child had already vanished like little Kazimir had been, it was almost a wonder the doors and windows weren’t lined with blood and salt and whatever else remedies folk turned to when met with unexplained tragedy.  
Geralt stepped up to the door and knocked firmly on the rattling door. A haggard man soon pulled the complaining door open, peering out at them with tired eyes encircled by sorrow and darkness. 

“You’re the witcher everyone’s been talkin’ bout,” he stated plainly. “What’chu want here?”

Regis arched a brow, had a child not been recently lost after all?

“We were told a child recently disappeared from the household, I am looking into all these disappearances. If you could tell me about the time your child vanished, what the child looks like and other such things, it could help me greatly.” Geralt had schooled his face into stoic witcher, no trace of emotion or reaction, just simple facts and stated intent. 

“Oh… right well, I guess if it could perhaps help them other kids…” The man stepped aside allowing them inside. 

It was just one big room, a door in the back and a narrow set of stair to the side likely leading up to a small loft. Three children sat off to the side, playing silently with crudely carved wooden toys one really had to use ones imagination to make out what they were supposed to be. By the stove, cooking up something that truly smelled like nothing and was likely watery gruel, stood a woman with her head bowed over the pot. 

“You speak as if your child was not a part of the mass vanishing of children in Ard Carraigh,” Geralt continued without missing a beat once he stepped inside. Regis noted the tensing in the woman’s shoulders. 

“I… I wouldn’t rightly know sirs, she was here when we went ta bed that night, but she was here no longer come morn.” The man shook his head. 

“And this didn’t alarm you enough to go to the guards? I have been hearing around town about children going missing and where they belong in the city, I had not heard of this family losing a child,” Regis prodded gently and the man cast his eyes away for a moment, was that a flicker of guilt over his features?

“We… we’re sorry Elena isn’t here no more of course sirs, but… it is a mouth less to feed…” the man’s quiet voice trailed off, looking over to his wife who still had not turned from her position over the pot. “And who knows, mayhaps she stumbled over somethin’ good! And is in a better place now, I mean, it happens sometimes! I’ve heard so meself!” he gained volume, causing the other three kids to look up at their father, a look of utter resignation on their faces. This was not the first time they had heard this string of words from their father. 

“I see, then we shall not waste any more of your time today, good fellow.” Geralt gave a slight bow before turning, meeting Regis’ eyes for a brief moment. Without uttering words they agreed this wasn’t a place that could help them in any meaningful way. Delusions could sometimes be the only remedy holding mind and life together.  
Behind them the mother’s tears mixed into the scentless gruel. 

 

“I understand the need for false hope and delusions, but what of the guilt playing in that man’s face?” Regis spoke softly as they left the house behind. Geralt stopped and gave a long sigh. 

“He isn’t implemented in this or anything, it reminds me of parents who have left their children on the trail of treats.”

“In the fairy tales?” the vampire arched a brow when Geralt shook his head.

“In Velen, the Crones they had a trail of treats set up through the bog. Devised to lure children, but locals with too many mouths to feed would leave their kids there with instructions to follow the trail for at the end would be all the food and toys they could ever want,” He grew silent as he recalled that group of children he had met in the Crone’s clearing. Children that were no more. 

“Well, I knew we found children’s skeletons and remains at that horrible place, but let me just say I am doubly glad you dealt with the last remnant of that ghastly trio. Still… to basically lead their children to their deaths, and then be able to just go on with their lives… Humans still befuddle me sometimes,” the vampire admitted with a frown.

“Ah, but see Regis, they don’t just go on with their lives. They will forever live with the guilt of having let go of their duty as a parent and cost an innocent child’s life. Look at the many taverns dotting Velen’s landscape, do you think it is mere coincidence that the ratio of drunkards is just as high as the city? Only there are less drifters and criminal scum in the smaller settlements, they’re huddled in camps hidden in the forest after all.”  
The vampire’s silence spoke volumes of his newfound understanding. 

 

They found another inn, in the less fortunate part of town, to ask around more for the missing children. Any other kinds of strange happenings in the city? Had any type of somber evidence been found? But all the tales given to them, by patrons and bar keep alike had trails already lost to time. Geralt was a good tracker, but he could hardly follow week old trails and shadows of what already took the shape of a ghost in most minds. 

“Well, all the names and descriptions so far have matched the ones I’ve already learned about,” Regis said as Geralt approached him after a final word with the inn keeper. 

“And all of these trails are too old. Kazimir seems to have been the latest, and the pattern is almost too sporadic to be named a true pattern. We’re back to speculations and mere shadows of clues, Regis,” the witcher sighed and his features darkened. “Given the time frames presented, I fear most of the kids won’t be in a state that can be saved by this point. It’s been too long, even if this is a case like the Crones who liked to fatten up the children beforehand, or gather a big enough group of them to have a proper feast.”

“Hm… so many we cannot aid… This is truly a horrific, terrible case Geralt. All haste should be employed, and yet, with no direction the haste is useless…” Regis shook his head in sorrow for so many young lives already likely to be lost. 

Geralt didn’t get the time to reply as a scantily clad woman approached them, the cheap make up in heavy layers on her angular face. 

“We don’t require your services tonight, milady,” Geralt told the woman the moment she stopped in front of them. Nor ever, thought Regis quietly to himself for the briefest of moments before interest as to why they had been approached took over. 

“Nay, but I’d like to employ yours. All my savings if you can find me my son and return him to me, witcher,” the woman’s voice held firm and her gaze did not waver as unnatural yellow eyes locked onto her. 

“I know what you are thinking, why would a whore like me even care two fiddlesticks about any child I happened to bear. And aye, it is true he was a result of tonics not working properly. I grew to love him all the same, and I’ve been saving my earnings so I could give that boy a decent life… I was so close too… until he vanished from me not even a week ago.” Her eyes faltered some as the pain shone through.

“I had no such thoughts, and please tell me everything. Such a recent vanishing could still provide more than ghost traces,” Geralt urged her. 

“I must apologize for not having sought you out, my good woman, I failed to catch your name and your son’s when I was asking around earlier today,” Regis apologized to her in such a polite manner it would probably have shocked her had the circumstance been different.

“No need for such words, I’m not surprised you didn’t hear. Who cares about a whoreson, when most believe the whoreson’s mother would care even less,” her words rung bitter. 

“What can you tell us of your son’s disappearance, miss?” Geralt rerouted them back to the task at hand. 

“He vanished almost 5 days ago now, I was with a client and he was down in the street playing with some orphan friends of his that dwells in an abandoned storehouse nearby. Let me take you there.”

“I would insist you do.” The witcher nodded before following her out the door. 

 

The woman led them out into the afternoon, first taking them to the spot where she had last seen her son Aidan. She knew the children he had been playing with, and knew them to be good kids where it mattered. When asked to show them these orphans however, she warned them of their distrustful nature towards adults. 

“They will be like shrewd little rats if you come asking questions; they sense business opportunities better than any jaded trader.”

“Such is the life of someone whose basest survival can be a struggle, I suggest we stock up on some food we can offer up,” Regis suggested and the witcher nodded in agreement.  
They stocked up in the dwindling market place, its active hours rapidly ending and leading them to pack up after yet another day’s work towards profit. Afterwards the woman showed them the abandoned storehouse where this particular group of orphans had gathered into a small gang to better their chance of survival. They greeted the whore by her name, but eyed the witcher and his companion warily. 

“This here is the witcher everyone in town is talking about, I’ve asked him to help find my Aidan,” she explained in a kindly voice, a mother’s. 

“I don’t expect you to just help me, brought you some payment for your good information,” Geralt continued and held up the sack with gathered goods. One of the older children neared him warily before snatching the sack away and hurrying back to the gathering kids. They peered into the sack and the air almost visibly filled with a buzzing excitement. The older kids were quick to snatch up the small pouch filled with some coins that Regis had slipped there before closing the sack. 

“We want Aidan found as well, miss, but with how many kids, from all over, have just vanished I don’t think you should hold your hopes too high,” A girl with matted hair piped up. 

“Allow a woman some hopes, girl…” she replied quietly before Geralt broke in. 

“Have anyone amongst you vanished?”

“Homeless and orphaned kiddies? Plenty, and from ways before the guards started noticin’ there was a large ‘mount of kids just up and vanishing into the thin air!” A small boy whose hair was so dirtied it could be any color hiding under there piped up. 

“The amount is even larger than initially believed…troubling,” Regis murmured beside his witcher who near voiced his agreement. 

“Course it is, but no one cares if some street urchins goes and gets themselves missin’. One less eyesore for the lots of them!” An older boy snorted, resentment rolling off him waves. 

“I care, and I would be much obliged if you could tell me everything you know about the disappearances. This woman claims at least some of you were together with her son when he vanished the other day. Did you see anything, someone looking at you or where Aidan went?” Geralt let his eyes sweep over the group in its entirety, taking in every dirtied and dusted face. 

“Someone approached us when we was playin’…” the young boy from before started. 

“That wasn’t “a someone”, it was a thing it was, a monster! All twisted and gnarled it appeared !” A girl with her hair tied with a tattered bow interrupted. 

“A monster approached you in the middle of the street?” Geralt arched his brows. The whore had said it was late afternoon when she went with her client, but this time of year the city would still be decently lit at this point in the day. 

“It came up from one of the alleys it did, and then it stared at us! Must have been starin’ a while too, cus I felt watched for a long, long time before we actually noticed that thing,” the oldest, at least Geralt believed him to be as he had been the one to first approach, gave a small shudder as he remembered. 

“What did you do once you spotted this monster?” Regis wondered, crouching in front of the children to appear on a more equal ground with them.

“We ran of course! Ran and hid on the other side of the street! But Aidan wanted to prove himself brave or somethin’ else stupid, and approached it. Called us cowards as he walked closer.”

“Did the monster attack him?” Regis looked at the girl with the tattered bow who shook her head, though her greasy hair hardly moved at all. 

“No, it approached Aidan in turn and it was truly a wretched sight it was, with more light on it. We thought for sure Aidan would come to his senses, but he just let the thing take his hand. Led him back down the alley it had come from. It must have spelled Aidan or somethin’!” the girl nodded to herself, eyes wide.  
Regis returned to an upright position, turning his head to meet his witcher’s eyes and they glanced simultaneously at the woman with them, one could see the hope draining from her eyes as she mulled the painted images over in her head. 

“But, But I saw Aidan just yesterday!” the young boy with the incredibly dirtied hair piped up again, drawing all eyes to him. 

“What!? Why didn’t you start with that you stupid-“ The woman began shrieking but Geralt quieted her with a gentle touch to her shoulder, if his touch was laced with the barest hints of axii, well, she didn’t need to know that. 

“You saw Aidan yesterday? Where did you see him, and were you sure it really was him?”

“Course I’m sure! I saw him in the market place! And he looked right at me too, so I waved. I was happy at first you know, cus here he was all okay and not dead or nothin’. So I waved at him, he was lookin’ right at me, but he didn’t even wave back or anythin’! Ignored me he did! But then, I saw him slip by the fruit vendor and slip some real fancy fruits from the stall and into his pockets before he scurried away. At first I was mad, cus I thought he had been ok all along and just abandoned us. But never have I seen Aidan steal like that before, he was always shit at it. And now youse come here and say he’s still missin’ so somethin’ must have been up after all…!”  
Regis’ frown deepened with near every new word from the boy. Aidan had been in the city only yesterday, but had not made contact with anyone… This was becoming one entangled head ache. 

“Did you see the monster anywhere?” Geralt asked the boy who shook his head profusely. 

Well then, this made even less sense than ever before at this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge shout out to a lovely reader going by Casassin. Your comment made me cry happy tears and kicked me into writing again even after I though exams had drained my will to write!  
> And to Seherrons who for some reason never gives up on me, what gives woman (i kid. ilu)
> 
> Also (if any reader is left out there aha...) this fic will now be worked on continously and updates will happen MUCH more frequently!


	4. Twisted, Trying. Trapped Together. Dying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is later than I intended and I apologize! Sickness found me and put me out of commission for over a week. At 100 % health again now though!

_  
Eeper Weeper, old grounds keeper,  
Searched for his children day and night,  
He found kids all ages,  
And put them in cages,  
And still he wasn’t rid his blight.  
_

A small voice whispered out into the darkness, there was nothing in its words to soothe the silent crying that filled the room like a whisper. The rhyme was no meant to comfort, it had other purposes. If nothing else it filled the room with more than silent despair and darkness.

There was not even a sliver of light in this room. And none of the children within it could even remember it to ever have held any form of light. Not even the few kids that had been here for more than a month remembered. Daylight stung and burned when they were let out, even if it was in the milder light of the afternoon and evenings. Something moved in the further away dark, and all silent whimpers and quiet sobs ceased, as night trained eyes watched the darker spot in the room. There were no heavy steps to be heard, and yet they could hear movement. A slow approach of dread. 

A tiny hand reached through the bars of a rusted cage, holding on to the ratty shirt on a thinned body in another rusted cage. The room held its collective breath as the darkened spot opened, the door creaking loudly in complaint. There was no light in the other room either. 

 

-

The children led the witcher, his partner, and the dejected woman to where Aidan had been taken by the monster. With the golden light of the afternoon rapidly darkening, the streets were also emptying, but even so Geralt held little hope in finding tracks from almost a week ago. The children pointed to the alleyway where they had first seen the thing. 

“We don’t know how long it had been standin’ there and just starin’.” One of the boys shuddered. 

“And you didn’t scream when you spotted this monster, staring at you?” Geralt arched a brow at the kids, and some of the older ones puffed up their chest in defiance. 

“Screamin’ never do any good for us, and it looked creepy sure, but it was more… uh… more…” the older boy, who had begun talking, trailed off as he struggled for words. 

“It was something inherently off-putting about him. There was something wrong from the moment we saw him, but it was like he was trying to pull off a human form at the same time he couldn’t,” a girl, or rather young woman spoke up, making her way to the front of the group. 

“Wait, him?” The witcher set his eyes on her and the girl nodded.

“It’s almost hard to remember after we saw his features twist and turn, dragged and all warped when he grabbed Aidan, like the memory of his costume of humanity doesn’t want to stay in your mind. But he tried to look like a man before Aidan got too close. If we screamed at every off-putting creep staring at kids, we’d have no voice left mister witcher,” she spoke easily and with eloquence not often seen with children of the streets. 

“That’s very important information to me, thank you little miss.” Geralt’s voice betrayed no surprise or wonder, carefully schooled to his professional voice with no signs of emotion. 

“My name is Sylvia,” she replied firmly, not taking her eyes off the witcher. And even though the witcher knew it was mere coincidence, cold still ran down his back for a moment, but he made no show of it and simply nodded. 

“Well,” Regis cleared his throat “in any case, this is truly a disturbing matter indeed.” He crouched in front of the younger children. “Please look after yourself and one another now, alright? And if you see anything suspicious do not hesitate to seek us out,” the man’s voice held a care and affection recognized by the estranged children who smiled back at the kind man and nodded with enthusiasm. Satisfied with the reply Regis righted himself again before giving the children the name of the inn Geralt and he were staying at, and inviting them to make use of his healing skills if they needed them. 

The kids scattered away quickly after half goodbyes were given, vanishing into the alleys and hidden shortcuts that only those on the bottom of a hierarchy would know of. The whore lingered behind though, looking at the two men with a newfound kind of uncertainty. 

“Your information and help has been very valuable, and much appreciated my good woman. For now though I urge you to get to safety, and we will do our absolute best to root out this mystery and hopefully find your son as well.” Geralt spoke quick and efficient, and yet the woman didn’t budge. 

“They saw him, in the marketplace stealing, not too long ago… but is that my Aidan? What if this… this thing does something to the children, and… and take them away from us in more ways than one?” Her voice was almost down to that of a whisper. 

“If the children are under a spell, or a curse, killing the source should deal with that. Hopefully returning them to their old selves. “ A witcher’s pragmatism could be as off putting as it was comforting. 

“And if they have been irreversibly changed into… into things for eternity…?” 

“To know will make it easier to move on,” came the simple reply, made eerie by the lack of compassion in that voice. And even though Regis knew it was a necessity he was always reminded of the line “Witcher, heartless cold,” when he witnessed it. 

 

“We should see where the alley takes us, it will be mainly guess work but it is more than we had earlier today,” Geralt’s voice changed greatly once the woman had left them after giving them an address where she could be found. He sounded worn, tired and weighted down by this ongoing tragedy. Regis stepped forward and put a comforting hand on his beloved’s shoulder. 

“Let’s plot out possible routes for now, and if we find something promising we will revisit it tomorrow. We need to gather our thoughts, my love,” he spoke quietly even if the endearment went unnoticed in the empty street it was always good to be cautious. 

“Yeah, and look…. Regis, thank you for … well just this. I know the “professional voice” as you call it unnerves you sometimes but I need it…”

“I understand Geralt, and I like to think I know the true you and at least some of your true thoughts under that stoic masked exterior.” The vampire gave a tight lipped smile which was briefly returned before the witcher headed down to the alley. 

 

Geralt had half expected the alleyway to be just as boot worn as the rest of the streets, but it appeared as if this alley received little traffic. The reason hit his nose soon after the question rose within him. 

“I smell a sewer,” Regis noted behind him.

“Yeah, was just about to say… It’s either very close or someone has been walking in sewage and dragged the scent with them. Let’s hope for the latter…” Geralt tried looking for any forms of tracks in the ground, but they were all too old and worn for him to be absolutely certain, the sewage scent was their only clue for now. 

“Ah, for if it is so that it lingers here we can guess that someone came through the alley and not further. Possibly stood here for a while and the sewage dripped off them and thus became more concentrated here,” the vampire followed Geralt’s thoughts exactly. 

“And behind the corner, we’ve got…” Geralt exited and smirked. “No sewer right behind alley 1, it’s a shot in the dark for sure but then again, I’ve pierced creatures in the dark before. And ugh, yeah the sewer smell lingers, let’s follow our noses on this one.”

 

Although a sewer entrance wasn’t that far away from the alley, Geralt still had faith that the stench wouldn’t have been like that in the alley just because the sewer was relatively close. 

“And there is a difference between old and fresh sewage, fresh is so much more worse,” he huffed and Regis chuckled.

“I will take your word for it Geralt, so, I am guessing you would like to get into the sewer now?”

“I prefer to not go wading through sewage actually, but when needs must.” The witcher approached the entrance and found the grate door to be unlocked. “Uh, if you want you can stay here, even though you don’t need to breathe. And so wouldn’t have to suffer like I am about to suffer.”

“Save the “guilting” Geralt, I’m coming with you, honestly who knew witchers could adopt such theatrics. Dandelion has really been a bad influence on you,” he said as he passed Geralt and into the beginnings of this particular sewer arm. 

“Terrible,” the witcher agreed with a forlorn shake of his head before following his companion. 

 

They hadn’t delved too far into the underground when it came apparent they wouldn’t find anything here right off the bat. The elevated sides of the sewer were all but crumbled and this kind of city had several passageways winding and weaving themselves all over the place. 

“Medallion is vibrating, I am guessing drowners but could be other disgusting or potentially vicious things as well. Night is almost upon us and that will make them more active. Much as I hate to cut this short, I can’t see or find any immediate clues and I really should prepare better before venturing further into this stinking mess,” the witcher crossed his arms as he stood near knee deep in sewage. 

“That would probably be best, this is as good a lead as any but we would indeed do well to prepare. If this ends up leading us to the culprit, we are so unsure of what or who the culprit is he might take us by surprise,” Regis agreed. 

“Hah, doubt one could take a higher vampire by surprise though,” Geralt chuckled.

“Hm, perhaps. The truth though dearest, is that fighting ill trained guards or lesser creatures like drowners would indeed pose no bigger hassle to me than it does for you. Any other kind of more formidable creature would also give me some grief. I for one hate fighting wraiths, as they are just as immortal as I am unless trapped by magic or runes. If I don’t steel myself before a banshee cries, I’ll end up on the floor bleeding from my ears with the rest of the fools who failed to cover their ears before she turned her howling into an attack.”

“Huh, well since you can’t take proper damage I’m almost of a mind to say it’s nice to know you aren’t all round the perfect predator some vampires try to paint you as.” Geralt smirked before taking his vampire’s hand as said vampire scoffed. “Come on love, let’s get out of this stink hole, go back to the inn and take a bath before we prepare for tomorrow. I refuse to sleep in a relatively clean bed while stinking of Ard Carraigh’s filth.” 

“Well I can hardly refuse to that now can I,” Regis said with mirth again as he walked back out to the streets of the city together with his witcher. 

 

Geralt was about to make another quip as they closed the gate behind them, but froze as he got that all too familiar feeling of being watched. 

“Eyes on us,” he spoke quietly. 

“I sensed it too,” Regis replied just as quietly.  
Had he not been busy scanning his surroundings for the offending eyes, he would have marveled just how in stride with Geralt his lover was. They made a picture perfect team the two of them, and part of him hoped they could team up for other contracts at a later date. 

“There, on the other side,” Regis pointed out and Geralt’s eyes zeroed in on the man half shrouded in shadow. It was clear he realized he had been spotted for he made a quick turn around and ran. Geralt would have to get up the stairs from the sewer drain and cross over the canal before he would even reach the corner the man had been on. He had too great a disadvantage. Regis however went with the speed only a vampire could produce, he had to use caution in such a big city though lest someone happened to see him materialize out of thin air and come after him with pitchforks.  
To Geralt’s great surprise Regis soon reappeared with a half sheepish look on his face. 

“What happened?”

“Too many people still down that road, a lot of taverns and brothels. Also I couldn’t pin point his scent, it’s like the sewer stench has plugged itself into my nose…”  
Despite the gravity of the situation Geralt couldn’t help but chuckle “Far removed from perfect predators I see.”

“I will have you know I haven’t hunted in at least a century,” the vampire sniffed before taking on more somber features again. 

“I did however commit his appearance to memory, and there was nothing twisted or gnarled about this man. But then again I suppose he could have managed to better keep his disguise by now compared to when the children saw him.”  
Geralt nodded in agreement “Can’t be too careful, but for now let’s go and wash the Kaedweni sewage off before your nose is rendered useless for all eternity.”  
Regis huffed but followed as his witcher started the trek towards their inn. 

 

They simply filled the tub with the water from the water barrel in their room, they’d ask for refills to that in the morning or something. A blast of igni had the water warmed comfortably in no time at all. They opted for bathing themselves first before rinsing out their clothes after. No need to scrub them proper just yet, they’d be heading back to the damned sewer with no walkways tomorrow again anyway. Geralt attempted to push all that from his mind for now and sank slowly into the heated water with a pleased sigh. He closed his eyes as he lent back against the tub side, small smile spreading over thin lips as he felt Regis lowering him. The vampire settled between his legs, back to Geralt’s chest. 

“Even with this bath, it’s a good thing witchers are so difficult to get sick. A sewer is hardly a choice place for health,” Regis mused out loud and Geralt snorted. 

“Oh Regis, you are such a romantic. Seduce me further with your talk of plague and death crawling all over the sewers,” the witcher’s voice was dry yet dripping with heavy sarcasm all the same. 

“Hm, didn’t know you wanted to be seduced.”

“I don’t really, my mind is racing too fast about this case of vanished kids at the moment,” he sighed.

“Yes, I thought as much. It almost feels distasteful to even think of such things when we are in the middle of this,” Regis agreed before leaning his head back to rest against Geralt’s shoulder. 

“Well, I still take great comfort and pleasure from being close to you like this, warm, safe…”

“More or less clean,” Regis supplied with a low chuckle and Geralt felt he loved him even more for it, if such a feat was even possible at this point. 

“Yeah, well, let’s just take this moment to breathe before we throw ourselves into things again,” the witcher requested quietly looking at his lover as his eyes opened, meeting the man’s feline gaze. 

“Agreed,” the man agreed and tilted his head slightly upwards in invitation, one Geralt was quick to accept as he leant close and pressed his lips to Regis’.  
It wasn’t a heated kiss, and it did not lead them into their usual depths of passion. Instead it simply swelled with warm affection, reassurance and comfort. Geralt placed a wet hand against warmed skin, simply letting his fingers trail from neck and up to cup the other’s jaw, keeping him close for moments longer.  
Once they parted, Regis tucked his head under Geralt’s chin, taking the moment to get rest and garner comfort from the steady rhythm of his witcher’s heart. 

 

With clothes hanging to dry after a decent rinse, and the now murky waters had been tossed out, the two men started with their preparations for the next day. Regis had taken it upon himself to brew some of Geralt’s witcher potions and oils with his small alchemy kit, while Geralt sat down by the table in the room to sharpen his blades and go over his armor. 

“When we first got here, you made some speculations about a possible culprit. Now that you’ve heard and seen more, is it possible to narrow down the list of possible suspects?” Regis broke the comfortable work science as he corked another potion. 

“Well, there is at least a semblance of pattern, or progression, now that we can look at. Kids of low class, or even lower like the street kids, have been taken for quite some time already without it causing too much of an uproar.” The witcher began.

“The poor and neglected are easy to forget,” Regis agreed quietly, though he didn’t seem happy about this fact. 

“Now however, kids of the middle and upper class have also vanished, but since the abductor has likely had extensive practice with the kids before this the city guard has no chance in hell to stumble over the culprit.” Geralt laid his silver sword down on the table, it’s newly sharpened edges glinting brilliantly even in the low light. 

“Do you think it was consciously done, start low and work yourself up or has this creature or man just gotten bold?”

“Impossible to say really… the vampiric killer in Novigrad, the one who assaulted Priscilla, he worked his way from lower class to upper class. Though if it was planned or not, I cannot say. It looked more like he became bolder as you said.” Geralt looked thoughtful for a moment, mind turning to the memories of Hubert Rejk and his actions in Novigrad before Geralt stopped him. 

“I’ve seen such things before, murderers who kill for no apparent reason other than for sport or pleasure of the kill. After killing of easy targets for a while, it’s almost as if they need a stronger thrill. So they begin taking victims who would be missed, even in the big cities, and they don’t stop until locked away or killed themselves. The first time I encountered such a case, I first thought it to be a blood addicted vampire, I was more than a little dumbfounded when the guard eventually produced a human man on the executioners block. The killings really did stop after he had been beheaded to, and nothing similar popped up in the neighboring towns after either…” Regis looked truly disturbed at the very thought, as if he couldn’t fathom why or how humans could delve into such depths of depravity. 

“Always said humanity possesses ability for true monstrosity worse than most monsters in my bestiary. Instinct and need is not a requirement for cruelty to many,” Geralt gave a quiet sigh after he spoke, he had encountered the foul side of humanity one too many times to properly count them all. 

“Human monsters aside for now, we must also remember that many of the children have been snatched away in the middle of the day, or from locked rooms in evenings and nights. And the children we spoke to today described something with the actual appearance and shape of a monster, not a man with a monster on the inside. “

“So the real question is why has no one else seen it? It could take on an illusion as a man, which makes our observer highly suspicious and we should make sure to look around for him. It could be a humanoid creature, but I highly doubt it. Humanoid-ish monsters still appear mostly monstrous, with the exception of higher vampires and true higher vampires and whatever the crones from Velen really were,” Geralt mused as his hands went through the long since automated process of cleaning and sharpening his sword. 

“So we could be looking for a vampire…”

“Maybe, also if you look at the fact that Aidan appeared in the market but made no attempts to run. Perhaps a higher vampire with the ability to mesmerize and control his victims for longer periods of time?” Geralt wondered, eyeing Regis. 

“It is possible, but such abilities are rare and seldom so powerful that they can break through bonds of true care and love. Aidan appears to have a good relationship with his mother, sending a hypnotized victim into familiar setting that could trigger the mind’s natural defenses to suck trickeries is risky to say the least. But it is not impossible, if the vampire is old or just really powerful.” The vampire seemed almost a little reluctant to agree to the prospect, and Geralt knew it was because Regis hoped his own kind could learn to adopt a more friendly view of humanity like himself. Cases like this did nothing to help vampire’s reputation as a whole. 

“All in all, this narrows down our list to higher vampires, a possibly unknown humanoid monster, or the human monster like slavers or murderers with a kill addiction. Even if slavers and human killers lack the ability to hypnotize, fear and threats can make powerful motivators. “  
Regis nodded in agreement, “and let us not forget about the possibility of a crone like creature, or even a mage. Magic could explain a lot in this case.”

Memories of the infernal poem or song or whatever it really was that had plagued his recent dreams, surfaced in Geralt’s mind. “That would certainly explain how a man could appear twisted and monster-like almost simultaneously with his human appearance…and there is something else.”  
The vampire watched as his lover laid his steel sword to rest before he got up, wandering over to the narrow window, while his shoulders were clearly tense. Regis didn’t push though, he waited patiently while the witcher clearly mulled over the coming words before speaking. 

“Ever since that incident in Velen,” Regis frowned at the very mention, “There’s been these… verses whispered to me both when I am awake, and when I sleep. Mostly when I sleep, just before I wake.”

“Verses? Of what, a song? A poem?” Regis tilted his head somewhat. 

“I’m not sure, it’s always children’s voices, almost sounds like those nursery rhymes except it is blatantly disturbing instead of veiled or obscured like they usually are,” Geralt sighed and sat down on the bed. “It’s probably not connected, I mean, Velen is pretty far from here, it could be something from the crones that latched onto me. Hasn’t caused me to lose sleep or anything like that just yet though.”

“And you only hear words, you don’t see anything?”  
The witcher shook his head, no. 

“Well…I cannot say I particularly enjoy hearing ghostly voices rhyme to you in your head, Geralt. But since nothing has happened so far, I think it would be best to just wait and see. And I agree, it is likely not connected, unless this creature was somehow linked to the crones?”  
The white haired man visibly shuddered at that. “That’s a scary possibility right there, and I almost don’t want to think about it,” he groused, crossing his arms over his naked chest. 

“Even so, do you remember any of the rhymes?” Regis prodded gently and turned his full attention to his witcher as he sighed deeply before beginning to recite. 

“Eeper Weeper…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all you lovely commentators, your kind words give me life!


End file.
